After a particularly lamentable moment when I came across one of those “oh-dear-god-is-that-what-i-really-look-like” photographs and got back in touch with my yogic self and decided to research how many Calories I could burn by doing a million sun salutations a day, I stumbled across what is a standard practice of doing 108 sun salutations at every change of season.

For the record, that’s 108 chaturangas (and other poses) in a row.

Or if you’re not a yogi, torture yourself by thinking of doing 108 super slow pushups.  In a row.

I turn noodle-ish just thinking of it.  Especially given the fact that I currently do four in a row and feel relatively accomplished.  And noodle-ish.

It was just what I needed to top the earlier self-flaggelation with another hearty dose of Not Enough.

I could never do that, I thought.

I’m not strong enough.

I’m not disciplined enough.

I’m not brave enough.

I would never have that much time to “waste.”

Sufficiently beaten down, I tucked myself in bed and attempted to drift off.


It was one of those despairing comments that comes from deep within when Tahd wondered allowed at this evening’s swimming lessons what we’d done wrong to cultivate a child whose behavior was chasms away from what’s appropriate.  Perhaps, he intimated sternly, we should have been more authoritarian all along.

Those weren’t his exact words, so forgive me if I’m not quite getting it right, but in that moment I was engulfed in rage, furious that he’d be so critical of our parenting.  General parenting – and parenting Gabe – are topics we’ve discussed with a number of professionals, and they consistently tell us to stay the course and focus on engagement.  We try, we feel, we worry, we try again.  We have no guarantees that what we’re doing will help our children reach their full potential, but given the specifics of our situation, the research is fairly clear that more authoritarianism won’t get us there.

I can’t fault Tahd for being frustrated at that moment; we were discouraged.  We felt helpless.  When in distress, he defaults to increasing his level of control, and when the situation passes and we’re able to talk rationally about our worries and experiences, we regroup back to the same page.  (For the record, I alternate between defaulting to panic and anger.)  This, I think, is a good thing, and tonight it led us on a meandering discussion across parenting and marriage and ourselves in general, and we talked about failing – at parenting, at marriage, and at life in general.




I sat down to work this evening amidst a house whose disarray whispered of last week’s busyness and parties and I groaned at having once again procrastinated at cleaning the house.  When my work shift lulled, I pulled out my weekly planner and sat beside the empty pages, overwhelmed at how to manage them.  Carols crooned in the background and thoughts of Christmas peppered my mental inventory of things to do.  Regular to-do’s are one thing.  Christmas to-do’s are entirely another; I only get this one chance at Isla’s first and Gabe’s ninth and my thirty-fifth and Tahd’s thirty-sixth Christmas.  I want it to be perfect, magical, rich, full of tradition, hopeful, memorable, exciting, fun.

I could go on.


Through it all, there’s been a very quiet whisper shouting something I suspect more than one of us need to hear.  This is what it’s saying…





You are enough.  I am enough.  Right now.  Just like this.  We are enough with extra pounds and messy houses and disobedient children and spouses on a different pages than us and bah-humbugs where we want jingle bells.

Stop for a minute and breathe in this beautiful gift.


In this moment, we marry the reality of ourselves with the gift of enough, and this marriage simultaneously fills us and empties us of all that is joyous and anxious, respectively.  Inside us we find what we need for this moment, and every moment we live united to this gift ensures we will continue to have – and be – enough.

I returned to my yoga mat tonight intending to do a Certain Number of sun salutations.  But with every chaturanga, with every twinge of my triceps and every ache of my shoulders, it washed over me again.

I am enough.

Go slow.  Be gentle.


We need to know it, lovelies, to the bottoms of our hearts.

We are lovely.

And we are enough.

Setting the Intention

Inspiration and joy? They hit the toilet this week.  I’ve been spending my time navigating a weird funk of anxiety dotted with irritation and monumental tiredness. I put down my camera, hid from my kitchen, stopped writing, pretended my house mess and laundry didn’t exist, and sat the days away attempting to be oblivious.

And it? Was a big, fat fail.

The thing is… when I’m anxious my tendency is to withdraw, to slow down, to congeal.  And sometimes?  Well, maybe that’s okay.  But more often than not the anxious energy festers inside the stillness of my body, and my mind runs when my body doesn’t.  It’s like I pay full attention to my anxiety and pretend the rest of my life doesn’t actually exist.  Shouldn’t it be the other way around?

This week needs to be different.

When I stumbled on these two things on Pinterest (need an invite? let me know! it’s amazing!) I knew I had found my inspiration…

Go here and get your own free printable of this spunky reminder!

And then this…

Maybe I’ll have to start watching How I Met Your Mother?

So I’m setting the intention to have a more






awesome week, regardless of how much my anxiety tries to intrude!

Single Words

I don’t do this on many blogs, but on one in particular I read the comments.  The blog typically has a lot of commenters and many of them express similar sentiments.  But there are a few gems among them, and I find them too good to miss.  So I wade through the sea of similarity to find the exquisite.  I came across this comment and found it enchanting. It’s particularly appropriate for me tonight, having spent an unexplainably anxious day spinning my wheels!

When I am stumped for something to say or my brain fog too thick, I just stick with single words. No sentences, just words.

Wee girls

~ Sher

There’s a lot on my heart, but my brain fog is thick and I can’t quite think of anything meaningful to say.  So instead, I’ll stick with words.  Single words.

The words in which I’m soaking tonight…

















Glory Baby ~ Watermark

Glory baby you slipped away as fast as we could say baby…baby..
You were growing, what happened dear?
You disappeared on us baby…baby..
Heaven will hold you before we do
Heaven will keep you safe until we’re home with you…
Until we’re home with you…

Miss you everyday
Miss you in every way
But we know there’s a
day when we will hold you
We will hold you
You’ll kiss our tears away
When we’re home to stay
Can’t wait for the day when we will see you
We will see you
But baby let sweet Jesus hold you
‘till mom and dad can hold you…
You’ll just have heaven before we do
You’ll just have heaven before we do

Sweet little babies, it’s hard to
understand it ‘cause we’re hurting
We are hurting
But there is healing
And we know we’re stronger people through the growing
And in knowing-
That all things work together for our good
And God works His purposes just like He said He would…
Just like He said He would…

I can’t imagine heaven’s lullabies
and what they must sound like
But I will rest in knowing, heaven is your home
And it’s all you’ll ever know…all you’ll ever know…

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...